King George I Rules Again

April 18, 1985|By Jerome Holtzman, Chicago Tribune.

NEW YORK — After a year`s sabbatical, Der Bossman is back and his New York Yankees better shape up. George M. Steinbrenner III has returned to his perch in Yankee Stadium and is the early major-league leader, at the ownership level, in attendance. He has seen all six Yankee games. He moaned and groaned in Boston when the Bronx Bombers lost three in a row, nodded in approval in Cleveland when they swept two and watched, misty-eyed, Tuesday during the Yanks` home opener against the White Sox.

``I wasn`t in tears, but I got welled up,`` Steinbrenner conceded. This moment of sentimentality, for Steinbrenner and thousands of others, occurred when Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris helped the Bombers launch the new season. It was, as Steinbrenner was to describe later, ``a magic moment.`` The return of the M&M boys: Mantle throwing out the ceremonial first ball, with Maris at his side.

The public image of Steinbrenner, in the main, is of a Marine drill sergeant, hair cropped short and swinging a swagger stick. Woe to any slackers. But there is another, equally valid side, rarely mentioned. King George is a genius at generating publicity. And here in the Big Apple, landing on Page 1 is crucial.

``I was hardly involved last year,`` Steinbrenner said. He was busy with his shipbuilding business. ``We made a couple of acquisitions; we signed some big contracts. And I wanted Yogi (Berra) to have free rein. I knew every time I showed up, they`d say `He`s getting fired.` ``

The Perils of Pauline headlines, a specialty of the New York tabloids, have, like Steinbrenner himself, reappeared. After the Yankees dropped their first three games, manager Berra was going the way of all flesh--in 96-point type. Even the conservative New York Times, which must keep up and respond to every Steinbenner tremor, indicated the pressure was mounting. Quoting Steinbrenner, The Times reported:

``I don`t like the way they look. And I don`t think Yogi does, either. I`ve been a coach and I like to see more discipline. But the owner can`t force the manager to do something he doesn`t want to.``

If the Yankees fail to win their division and if they lose the box-office battle to the Mets, Berra is likely to get the ax. Above all, Steinbrenner is a realist. Baseball, particularly New York-style baseball, is show business.

Jimmy Nederlander, a Broadway producer and one of Steinbrenner`s intimates, advised him of this long ago. ``Jimmy told me, `It`s a show, it`s entertainment. And you better look at it that way.` ``

Nederlander, then, was the guy who taught you?

``He didn`t teach me everything. I always was able to put on a party.``

Suddenly, Steinbrenner was soaring. Body and soul had flown from Yankee Stadium and into the theater district.

``Not too many owners can say they won a Tony Award,`` Steinbrenner announced. ``John Galbreath (of the Pittsburgh Pirates) won the Kentucky Derby. But he didn`t win a Tony.``

Neither did Steinbenner, but he did come close. He was the principal investor in ``Applause,`` a prize-winning Broadway show in the `70s. Nederlander, not Steinbrenner, was the producer. But Der Yankee Bossman probably was entitled to an assist. It was his idea to hire Lauren Bacall for the lead role.

``In New York,`` Steinbrenner explained, ``You always have to have someone with star quality. New York`s a star vehicle town.``

Billy Martin, thrice deposed as the Yankee manager, has this star quality, or had it; so do Mantle and Maris. Players and managers, nonetheless, are transients. Steinbrenner is the biggest elephant in the Yankee circus.

``Coming out here today,`` he explained, ``a cab driver almost drove off the road when he saw me. My chauffer yelled at him, `Hey, you almost killed us.` The guy saw me and wanted to say hello.``

The night before, attending a Midtown showing of the Hagler-Hearns fight, Steinbrenner met a look-alike.

``He introduced himself,`` Steinbrenner said. ``He looks just like me, only a little shorter. Barrel chested. Dresses like me. Had the exact same tie. He told me, `I`m just a fan, just a nobody. But people come up to me and tell me they admire me.` ``

Steinbrenner fingered the ``GMS`` monogram on his white shirt. He was in his Yankee Stadium office, which is on the loge level and connects to his private box, the best seats in the house.

``They can tear me apart in the papers. But I feed on that.``

Steinbrenner also feeds on controversy and the battle, with his own team and with the Mets, who are in revival. The duel with the Mets, essentially, is for newspaper space and Steinbrenner is the constant winner.

Davey Johnson, the Mets` manager, recently was quoted to the effect that the Mets are ``stealing`` Yankee fans, a statement that seemed to amuse Steinbrenner.

``I guess he`s entitled to them,`` Steinbrenner said ``because I stole thousands of Met fans--and I did it when we weren`t even winning.``

From there, Steinbrenner launched into a soliloquy, this time reversing his field and insisting that Yankee fans are Yankee fans, in good weather and bad, faithful to the end, identical, he insisted, to the situation in Chicago, which houses Cub fans and White Sox fans, and never the two shall meet, regardless of the won-lost records.

``It`s Opening Day here,`` Steinbrenner observed ``but Fred Wilpon

(president of the Mets) is in my box, my guest. And this morning, Nelson Doubleday (the Mets` owner) called to wish me luck. He could have had his secretary call, but he called himself. We`re friends, not enemies.``

It was the sixth inning, the Yankees and White Sox locked in a 2-2 tie. Time to check the box office. Steinbrenner was put through to the ticket department.

``Frank, what have you got?`` the boss asked.

Pleased, Steinbrenner hung up: ``Fifty-two thousand and they`re still counting. Which is very good. The Mets only drew 46,000.``